


Send Me Photographs

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5248721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why the Courier took pictures of everything but signs is beyond him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Send Me Photographs

**Author's Note:**

> [You Belong to Me by Bing Crosby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJmkm46yQkg)

Wallpaper peeling in a dingy hotel room, aging mattress and rusted bed frame bare- but one teddy bear, missing an eye, sitting perfect centre. A woman standing in silhouette against a bonfire, a bottle in one hand and cowboy hat in the other, both raised to the star-speckled sky. A Mojave sunset over the Colorado, water glistening pink, orange and gold.

Michael Angelo flips through the photographs. It looks like they developed fine- a few dust-spots here, but the pictures aren’t the art. These aren’t even important, anyway; why the Courier took pictures of everything but signs is beyond him.

Eyeglasses on a nightstand with a neatly folded lab coat, Followers logo visible, and a man’s arm, vault-pale, dangling alongside. The next shot has his face, squinting against the flash and poor eyesight, mouth open in the middle of a word, probably retaliation to being woken from the outstretched hand. Small hand wrapped around a giant horn, deathclaw dead, and the Courier’s grin so alive.

There’s a good one- the Helios One sign, though with a full NCR troop lined up in front of it. A blood-spattered and cracked Fiend helmet lying in the dust, corpses blurring into the background behind it. A hand he’s getting to recognize pressed against a man’s bare chest, his grin lopsided, pupils so blown out there’s no wondering what’s going on outside the frame.

She knows he’s gotta develop these, right? That he’s looking through all of them just to find the things the Courier was supposed to take pictures of? He’s got quite a stack still to go through.

An old man in a decorated jacket- but Sheldon knows that’s a vault suit underneath- standing in front of a pre-war plane with arms open, and the shot’s wide to fit it, but you can see his pride. Robotic dog, pawing at fresh ground, and the Courier holds him lovingly around the neck as she admires the crooked cross that reads, “Rey.” And here’s the odd one out: there she is again, with this yellow-toothed grin, one hand trying to keep a hold of the camera, the other around him.

Michael Angelo slips that one out of the stack, and looks it a little closer. He seems so awkward...

When he separates the assortment to stacks, _Hers_ and _Mine_ , he keeps the _Ours_ to himself.


End file.
